


Boyfriend

by Rhys (rhyssj)



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-08
Updated: 2001-10-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyssj/pseuds/Rhys
Summary: Won't you be his boyfriend?





	Boyfriend

Lance came out during a dinner with Joey's parents. The Fatones were down for the weekend, mostly to cook for five very hungry boys who couldn't feed themselves and couldn't eat another meal that tasted like sub-par cafeteria food. Joey swindled his parents into putting together a feast of feasts, and at dinner, Lance blurted it out with a very bad joke. 

"Joey, can you pass the rolls to the homosexual?" 

So Joey gave the rolls to Chris -- "here you go, man" -- and wailed with laughter. Joey, when he was thinking he was funnier than he actually was, always had problems seeing when his jokes flopped. Lance was mortified. 

"I think he meant the other homosexual, Joe," Chris said casually, standing up and passing the basket of buns to Lance, who took them with shaking hands. Chris then smacked Joey upside the head, but not before Joey's dad got to him first. Joey stopped laughing. 

"What? It's a joke," Joey muttered, "I was being funny." 

"I'm serious," Lance said quietly, three dinner rolls sitting in a half-circle around his plate. JC patted his arm, smiling brightly, and Justin took three rolls, too, so Lance wouldn't seem obsessive. "So, um. Thanks for the buns, Chris." 

Chris smirked. "Why, Lance. My buns are your buns." 

Lance didn't know what to say to that. 

~~~ 

"So, Bass," Chris said casually, "got a boyfriend?" 

Lance tried to get out from under Chris's arm, but Chris knew all the moves and draped himself over Lance, pretty much immoveable. Lance sighed. "No, not right now. Could you not touch me please? I just ironed this shirt." 

"Oh, sorry, princess. Wouldn't want to mess up the silk shirt." Chris flicked Lance's collar, and Lance looked annoyed. Chris stopped. Instead, Chris leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "Do you go out, hunting for boys, shit like that?" 

Lance tried to wave down JC's attention, but JC was staring at the ceiling, fingers pressed to his mouth and dressed in varying shades of pink. Lance looked back at Chris, who was dressed all in black and wearing too much silver. "Sometimes." 

"Huh. Mind if I tag along next time?" Chris asked casually, trying to look nonchalant, but his leg was jumping all over the place, this insane, leather-clad leg beating strange tribal rhythms on the ground, singing, ‘liar, liar, liar.' Lance looked up. Chris was still playing cool. 

"If you want," Lance said slowly, "I guess. I can't stop you." 

"Well, I won't go if you don't want me there, Bass, like, if you think I'm going to mess with your sexy vibe or something. I can be gay on my own, you know. I've been doing it a lot longer than you, kid." Chris waved a hand around idly, but Lance thought Chris was going to break his own leg the way it was jumping. "Don't humour me, man." 

"I wasn't. I mean, I'm not." Lance willed his cell phone to ring, or for JC, who was driving him to the meeting, to stop being a spazz and realise he was on planet earth again. "It's boring, Chris. The places I go, there's no scene." 

"Oh. You want a scene? I can do that. Call me when you get home, Bass, and we'll do something. ‘Kay?" Chris didn't wait for an answer, just walked away and slapped JC hard on the ass. JC jumped then laughed, prancing over to Lance, who was checking his shirt for wrinkles. 

~~~ 

Lance forgot to call, and Chris acted like a twelve-year-old girl not invited to the party for the next week, all bitchy and mean and clinging to the hurt by the skin of his teeth. Lance apologised and promised that on Friday, they'd go out together. 

Lance coerced JC into helping him find clothes worthy of a scene. The Gap and Lance were close personal friends, perhaps even intimate lovers, but knowing Chris, that probably wasn't going to fit into wherever they were going. Chris felt the Gap discriminated against larger-sized people and was currently in silent protest against it. 

"Is this a date?" JC asked from deep in Lance's closet. 

"What? No. No, not at all. He invited himself, Jayce." 

JC pulled out of the closet with a white sweater in tow, settling it over the black leather pants. He hummed in approval then walked over, making Lance sit down on his bed and plucking the wet towel from Lance's hands as he tried to dry his hair. "Mousse or gel?" 

"Mousse," Lance replied, tilting his head back when JC slid a hand over his scalp, shaping his hair, "and there is no way this is a date. I'm not even sure why Chris is suddenly gay. I mean, that came out of nowhere, didn't it?" 

"I always thought he was," JC admitted, shrugging. "But you, man, I actually thought you were straight until you told me, so what do I know? Tilt forward a bit, please." Lance flopped his head, pressing his chin to his chest. "The thing with Chris is you never know what's going on inside his head until it's too late." 

"That sounds so ominous." 

JC shrugged. "I guess. Just be careful tonight, all right?" 

"I always am." 

JC smiled sweetly. "I know. But I think this time's different." 

"Then I'll be careful," Lance promised. "Don't worry at all. It's only Chris." 

~~~ 

Chris, it turned out, really was a twelve year old girl. Lance wasn't sure how he missed that before, but by his fourth drink and an hour of the who-do-you-like game, Lance was vowing to never let Chris come out with him again. The club was nice, though, dark and gothic, with many lovely men walking around. 

"How about that guy?" Chris asked, pointing to a fey guy with strange grey eyes, and Lance shrugged, trying not to give the game away. The truth was the man was exceptionally beautiful and Lance wouldn't mind bringing him home, but Chris wasn't supposed to know that. "I'll go talk to him for you, if you want. Bring him over." 

"No, Chris, really. It's not necessary," but Chris was already gone, having no shame at all. Lance couldn't imagine Chris normally came here -- the mean age looked to be about twenty -- but it really was cool. 

Chris sauntered up to the pretty guy and immediately began chattering away at him. Lance tried not to watch, didn't want to see Chris embarrass himself, but the goth seemed to be responding, laughing at whatever Chris was saying. When Chris pointed at him, Lance looked away and blushed, burying his face in his drink. 

After a few minutes, Chris slapped the goth on the arm, grinning, and the blond boy started moving towards Lance. Frantically, Lance looked for a path of escape, not able to deal with this at all, but the guy cut him off. 

"Your boyfriend's a funny man, but I'm not into that," the guy said then moved on, walking straight out of the club and not looking back. Lance's heart stopped going into arrest and he exhaled sharply, downing the rest of his drink before frowning. When he tried to get Chris's attention, Chris wouldn't look at him. 

Lance picked up his jacket and left the club, finding his own way home. 

~~~ 

"I'm sorry, okay?" Chris said the next day, "but he wasn't your type at all. Kind of spacey and superficial, you know? So I told him that we were together. Well, actually, first, I suggested a threesome, but he wouldn't go for it. Not his scene. He totally wasn't right for you." 

Lance was still not talking to Chris, which he would admit later was a stupid approach. Chris could not and would not stand the silent treatment. Instead of admitting defeat, Chris proceeded to annoy the shit out of Lance for three hours until Joey showed up, baby in tow. 

"Get him away from me," Lance hissed, grabbing Joey by the arm after Chris stole Brianna, dancing with her to whatever mindless song the radio was spewing. "I mean it, Joey. I'm going to kill him. He's a freak." 

"And you're just realising this now?" Joey asked, smirking. Lance grunted quietly in frustration, and Joey sobered, watching Chris carefully. "Fine, fine. Me and Bri are heading to the zoo anyway. I'll take him with me. He'll fit right in." 

"Thank you." 

It wasn't surprising when Chris didn't want to leave, but Lance wasn't going to give him any sympathy, not when he was being such a dick. When it was quiet again and Lance could breathe without Chris trying to make amends, he turned back to his computer and realised all his work was done anyway. 

~~~ 

Lance snuck out the next week, to one of the clubs that suited him more than a room full of brooding goths. The place was boring and safe, filled with semi-famous people not wanting to be outed, but Lance always picked up there without problems. 

"I thought you'd be here," Chris said, and Lance jumped, turning around and two steps from throwing his glass of gin in Chris's face. "Hmm, dull, with sucky music, and mediocre pickings, at best. Totally your style, Bass." 

"How did you find me?" Lance demanded quietly. 

"I know you, man. And, like I said, I've been around. Put two and two together, and got this dump." Chris looked around, and shrugged, like he hadn't masterminded the entire situation. Chris was a devious bastard, Lance would give him that much. "Can I buy you a drink?" 

"I have one," Lance started to say before Chris plucked the glass from his hands, gulping it down and smirking a self-satisfied grin. Lance rolled his eyes, irritated by Chris's presence, but said, "fine, Chris. Gin and tonic, dry." 

Chris returned with two drinks and a basket of fries, setting them down on the small table in the corner that Lance had grabbed before anyone else could. When Chris tried to dump half the bottle of ketchup onto them, Lance bartered it down to only his half of the plate. Chris smiled sweetly and left Lance's fries alone. 

"Hey, I think I've slept with that guy," Chris said suddenly, pointing to a very short guy with glasses, and Lance narrowed his eyes, 

"So have I." It wasn't easy to catch Chris off guard, but that seemed to do it and his jaw dropped. "See, if I'd known you were into guys, too, I could have avoided sleeping with your leftovers, but you never thought to mention it, so." 

"So, indeed. God." Chris took a long drink of his fancy girl drink, a bright vibrant pink, then rubbed his fingers over his forehead. "That guy gave the worst head, and I've had some horribly untalented guys go down on me. It took me twenty minutes to come." 

Lance nodded solemnly. "I didn't even. He was that bad." Lance nibbled at a fry, then swiped it through a blob of ketchup. Chris didn't mention the grossness of double-dipping. "Anyone else you think you've fucked?" 

"Guy in the corner looks vaguely familiar." 

"Done him, too," Lance muttered, and Chris sighed. "Kind of kinky, if I recall." 

"He smacked my ass, so I broke his nose. Yep, that's definitely him," Chris said, grabbing two fries and sticking them length-wise under his upper lip. Lance laughed and turned his head away, pretending he didn't know this Strange Man with French Fry Fangs. 

~~~ 

Just when Lance thought Chris was over his jerk phase, he did something that made Lance fume. They were out at one of Lance's boring but comfortable clubs, drinking and laughing, when Lance caught the eye of a definite hottie. Lance zoned out Chris's story about the snake with two heads and smiled at the man. He smiled back. 

"I'm going to go get. something," Lance mumbled, ignoring Chris's narrow eyes and stumbling to the bar, right up next to the stranger, who was even more gorgeous up close, big brown eyes, broad shoulders, a good six feet tall. "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" 

"Sure," he said, flashing a pearly white grin, and Lance was dead, just a puddle of goo on the floor. The guy was so hot. They talked for awhile as the bartender put together the drinks, and Lance touched the guy's arm, showing his interest. 

"Hey, Lance, who's your friend?" Chris asked, and Lance frowned, ignoring him. 

"Who're you?" Hottie replied, hovering over Chris and trying to make him feel small, but Lance didn't think it would work, seeing as Chris was small and knew it and often turned out to be the biggest guy in the room, in every way but height. 

Chris's face darkened. "Who do you think I am?" 

"Hey, guys," Lance said, suddenly sensing conflict. "Chris, just go back to the table." 

Chris turned those hard eyes on Lance, and Lance suddenly felt really guilty. "You're ditching me for this?" He gestured with his thumb in the direction of the guy, and Lance forced his face to stay blank. "I can't believe you. I was sitting right there." 

"Are you his boyfriend or something?" 

"Yes," Chris said as Lance said, "no!" 

"Fuck this," the stranger replied, "thanks for the drink, but I don't need this shit." 

He stalked off, and Lance turned to Chris, furious, but Chris was staring back at him blandly, arms crossed over his chest. Lance opened his mouth to tell Chris off again, but Chris turned away before he could say anything and walked out the door. Lance didn't see him again for days. 

~~~ 

"Yo!" Justin pounded on the door even as he was opening it, and Lance yelled from the living room for Justin to come on in and stop beating the house down. Justin walked into the room with a sour expression, and Lance sighed. "That was shitty of you, man. He was right there." 

"I don't know what his problem is," Lance replied stubbornly. 

"I know you don't, dumbass." Justin plopped down on the couch, looking tired. "But all right, he told me not to tell you, but I'm going to anyway because he's a dork about things like this. He likes you. A lot. And trying to pick up in front of him is such a sucky thing to do, man." 

"He doesn't like me," Lance said. "Don't be stupid." 

"He likes you." 

"He doesn't." 

"Shut the fuck up, yo!" Justin shouted, right in Lance's face, and Lance jumped back, hating when Justin did stuff like that. "Sorry to tell you this, Bass, but Chris likes you. He's jonesing for your hot body. He loves you for your fucked up mind." 

Lance twisted his pants in his fists. "Then why doesn't he tell me that?" 

"Because he's Chris." Justin pinched the bridge of his nose and pretended he was forty. "Remember Dani? And how Joey had to tell her to ask Chris out because Chris wasn't going to do it? Instead, he teased her, and fuck, yo, I thought he was going to dip her pigtails into ink or some shit like that. When he's serious, he's annoying. We all know this." 

"So I come out, and he decides I'd make a good boyfriend, and I'm supposed to just sit here and accept it. What if I don't like him like that?" Lance asked, pouting on the couch. Of all the uncomfortable positions to be put in, this one took the cake. 

"Uh. Well, this isn't exactly a new thing," Justin muttered. 

"Huh?" 

Justin looked bleak. "Um. He's kinda been pining for you for, like, a long fucking time." 

Lance's stomach suddenly felt queasy. "How long?" 

"Shit, yo. I'm not going to tell you all his secrets. But all I'm saying is that he liked you when he still thought you were straight, then suddenly you're not anymore, and he thinks maybe he has a chance." Justin leaned his head back on the couch for a moment before popping up again, staring straight at Lance. Lance hated when Justin did stuff like that, too. "I keep telling him annoying you to the point of hate isn't a smart move, but." 

"So. Uh. What should I do? Ask him out or something?" 

"I thought you didn't feel that way about him." 

"I said what if I didn't," Lance muttered, "in reality, I probably haven't thought about it all that much. Like, one of the rules about being gay is it's fucking dumb to think about your male bandmates in sexual contexts, you know?" 

Justin smirked. "Someone should have told Chris that." 

Lance laughed. "Yeah." 

~~~ 

Lance thought about it for a week, and in the meantime, Chris started talking to him again, lasting about three days before he just had to tell Lance a bunch of freakishly useless information over breakfast at Lance's favourite diner. Lance found himself smiling at the stories in a wistful sort of way and made his decision: Chris was definitely some warped form of boyfriend material. 

The thing was, of course, that now Lance had to ask Chris out. He settled for traditional, dinner and a movie, but Lance remembered very quickly why he didn't date. The act of asking turned his stomach upside down, even when it was just quirky old Chris, who Lance remembered looking like a doofus with braces when Lance looked like a doofus all over. They used to bond over the fact they weren't Perfect or Justin Timberlake. 

When Chris needed help with some FuMan contracts and showed up at Lance's door with takeout and diet soda, Lance realised the opportunity had just been dropped in his lap. He began to plot the best way to go about asking Chris out on a date while Chris rattled on about his issues. 

"Are you even listening to me?" Chris demanded suddenly, and Lance shook his head before he could stop himself. Chris frowned. "Well, fuck, Lance. Thanks for lying to me. I recall a time when you used to be a gentleman and knew when to feed a guy a line." 

"Do you want to have dinner with me? And a movie," Lance added quickly, relieved he hadn't forgotten the important part. "The new Kevin Smith flick is out, and, like. Dinner, too. And stuff." Lance realised, in reality, this was probably why he didn't date. He was an utter and complete loser, it turned out. 

Chris narrowed his eyes. "You mean, with the rest of the guys?" 

"No," Lance said slowly, "just us." 

Chris still didn't look impressed, and Lance made a mental note of attempting to kick Justin's ass if it turned out to be just another one of his half-truths, like the time he told JC to grow his hair because it would make him look exotic and mysterious, but in truth, Justin really wanted to shave his own head and needed someone else to have the crazy hair. Of course, JC ended up looking really pretty, which turned out to be what JC wanted all along. 

"Is this a date, Bass?" Chris asked quietly. 

"Yes," Lance squeaked, a hand to his face, which was burning hot and probably flaming red. He was so going to kill Justin. "Or not. You know, if this is weirding you out, I'll just pretend I had platonic intentions when I asked, no problems." 

"No, no, I'm cool," Chris assured him. "Just surprised." 

"I've been trying to ask for a week," Lance confessed with a laugh. 

"Yeah?" Chris asked, and Lance nodded. Chris grinned. "Like I'd say no." 

"You could have." 

"I guess," Chris said and shrugged, "but hey, sure. Okay. When?" 

Lance's stomach got all fluttery again at the mention but he managed to state Thursday night, sometime around six, and Chris nodded through all of it, looking very serious and austere. Lance still wasn't wholly convinced Chris wanted him madly, but regardless, Lance now had a date for Thursday night. It was all very surreal. 

~~~ 

Chris was intense. He didn't go out with people too often because not many suitors were willing to put up with that level of energy, which seemed to be all focussed in two light brown, almost golden, eyes. Lance thought he dulled himself down to Chris's stare years ago, but having Chris entirely focussed on himself during dinner did strange things to him. Lance stumbled over everything he said and got a little drunk on wine attempting to counteract his jitters. 

The movie was slightly better. Chris bought a large of everything, informing Lance he would be eating some, and Lance tried to protest, citing his dietary restrictions, but Chris threatened to take it outside, and Lance conceded to eating the junk food. 

Lance spent more time watching Chris than watching the movie, overly aware of everything, like the way Chris rarely laughed out loud at anything, but if the smile reached his eyes, then he was laughing, even if Lance couldn't hear it. It was rare that Chris made any noise at all when amused, and it was pretty rare that he laughed at all. 

Chris leaned over a couple times to explain a reference that was obviously way over Lance's head, and Lance just nodded stupidly, ignoring the breath of warm air on his skin. When Chris pulled back, Lance shivered and turned back to the movie, but he couldn't stop his eyes from looking over at Chris, waiting for the next in-joke explanation. 

Chris was a twitchy bastard. When Lance first met him, he was mildly concerned that maybe Chris was a junkie or something, but JC said no, that wasn't it, and didn't even laugh at Lance for worrying about it. Chris just couldn't stay still, was just too full of energy and life and whatever to slow down for anything. Lance fought the urge to fold a hand over that jumping thigh and hold him still. 

They were sharing popcorn drenched in liquid oil that wasn't butter and wasn't margarine and Lance couldn't even pretend to guess what it really was, and he kept expecting their fingers to bump or touch or anything, but the timing was obviously off, and Lance's romantic notions of sharing snacks in a dark theatre were dashed. 

By the time Chris drove Lance home, Lance was not sure whether he was disappointed or not. He felt strange all over, energised somehow, and realised that he was going to have no problems whatsoever thinking about Chris in a sexual way, but he wasn't entirely sure Justin was right when he said Chris liked him like _that_. 

"So, thanks for tonight," Lance said when Chris walked him to his door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket as Chris stood there, watching him quietly. "We should do this again sometime, or something, I mean, if you want." 

"How about tomorrow?" Chris asked, shifting his weight from one leg to the other then back again, a blur of constant motion. Lance wondered if it was even possible to still Chris for a second. "We can see a movie you actually want to see." 

"I wanted to see that one," Lance insisted, "but okay. Yeah. I'm free." 

"I know," Chris said, smirking. "Handy, you know, having the same schedule." 

Lance smiled. "Yeah." 

"Okay. So, um. Tomorrow, let's say around six? You can pick me up this time." 

Lance nodded, twisting his hands in his pockets, eyes looking anywhere but at Chris's face. Chris was saying something else, but Lance was zoning out again, staring at Chris's arms and the big chunky watch he constantly wore. Lance followed that arm when it lifted and Chris's fingers touched Lance's left bicep. Lance looked up. 

Somewhere in Lance's mind he realised kissing would probably come into play, but he assumed it would be later, maybe the second or third date because they needed an adjustment period or so Lance thought. Maybe Lance just needed a bit more time because it was weird, way too _not_ normal to suddenly find lips softly pressed against his mouth. It only lasted a second before Chris pulled away, waving a bit as he jogged back to his car. 

Lance was left there, looking stupid and touching his lips, which felt warm and swollen despite the briefness. He turned inside, shut the door and knew he was lost. 

~~~ 

"So," JC said slowly. "How was it?" 

Lance jumped, clutching his heart, shocked to find JC sitting in his living room and watching television. JC looked apologetic and Lance collapsed on the couch, sprawling. "It was really weird, Jayce. I'm not entirely convinced I can do this." 

JC hummed sympathetically. "Date Chris?" 

"Yeah," Lance muttered, dragging a hand over his face. "I mean, what if it doesn't work out? Then we've totally screwed up the group. And what if I don't have time for a relationship? I'm a busy man. And he _kissed_ me! _Chris_ kissed _me_!" 

"Oh," JC said, nodding. "So you're freaked. That's all right, man. You're allowed to find this a bit weird. I don't think I could date anybody in the group either, even though it's the only relationship that would probably stand a chance. One false move and it all shoots to hell." 

Lance folded his palms over his eyes, his head lolled back. "This is so big." 

"Well, if you don't think you can handle it, probably tell him soon." 

"I want to be able to handle it," Lance muttered, sighing deeply and putting his hands in his lap, "I really enjoyed myself, and that's insane because it's Chris, and he should annoy the shit out of me, but somehow, in this scenario, he doesn't. And we're going out again tomorrow, my suggestion! What am I doing, Jayce?" 

JC titled his head. "Lance, man. That doesn't sound like you don't want to see him again. That sounds like you asked him out for a second date." JC stretched an arm over Lance's hunched shoulders and squeezed. "It'll be okay, man." 

Lance shook his head. "I shouldn't like him at all." 

"But you do." 

"But I do." 

JC smiled. "I think you've got yourself a boyfriend." 

Lance groaned. 

~~~ 

When Chris suggested they just stay in and watch a couple movies, Lance didn't disagree, and when they fought over pizza toppings, which ended with Chris sitting on Lance's back giving him noogies, Lance was grateful things really hadn't changed at all. Therefore, Lance reasoned, dating Chris was a _good idea_. 

They started out on separate ends of the couch, but by the second movie, Chris was leaning against Lance, slumped in his seat while Lance played with his hair, trying to pay attention to the film, which wasn't good at all. Chris kept shifting, restless, and finally turned to Lance, serious, and said, 

"Do you just want to make out or something? This movie blows." 

Lance blinked, swallowing loudly. "Uh, okay." 

Chris grinned and tucked a hand behind Lance's neck, pulling him down. Lance rearranged his legs quickly, trying to keep his weight off Chris, so he ended up hovering over him, staring at his face. Chris frowned a little bit. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," Lance said and kissed him, feeling the scrape of beard against his chin and thinking it not wholly unpleasant. Lance wasn't really into hairy guys, usually didn't give them a second glance, but Chris was an exception. 

It was cautious and slow, which Lance appreciated, still trying to get used to doing this with Chris. It was also quiet, save for their breathing, which seemed to come in time, this rolling sound that touched over Lance like the waves of the ocean. Chris's hands were soft against his back, his neck, his shoulders, feeling their way around, and slowly but surely, Lance settled down against Chris, relaxing against him. Lance was so hard, he was shaking with it, and he was sure Chris could tell. 

But then, so was Chris. Lance could feel it and couldn't stop himself from pausing when the thick heat in Chris's jeans glided over him. Breathing hard, Lance looked up at Chris, and Chris peered back, eyes wide and dark and heady. "I think, maybe," Lance whispered, "that I should go home." 

"You can stay," Chris said, "if you want." 

And Lance wanted to, desperately. He wanted nothing more than to see Chris aroused and naked, as opposed to just naked and running around trying to get dressed or find the showers or something else wholly non-sexual, like pissing Justin off. "I don't know if I should." 

"Stupid idea, huh?" Chris asked, laughing awkwardly. 

"Tempting idea, but I think we need to move slowly," Lance muttered, "but tempting, Chris, really, really tempting. If you weren't you, and I didn't know you at all, I would stay the night, but it is you. We need to go slowly with this. Okay?" 

Chris nodded. "Okay, Bass." 

Lance stood up, tugging down his shirt and smiling sheepishly at Chris, who stayed on the couch, reclined and not bothering to hide anything. Lance really wanted to yank down those too-tight jeans and go down on Chris until he screamed, but Lance merely kissed him once on the lips then walked out the house, strumming inside. 

~~~ 

Joey cornered Lance the next day, demanding details, which Lance choked at because it was Joey asking and that in itself was surreal, but Joey smacked him hard on the back and said, "Bass, you fuckwad, you're my two best friends. Of course I give a damn." 

Lance rubbed at his back, the skin stinging from Joey's slap. "I don't know, Joey. Jayce is fine with hearing the details, but I'm not wholly convinced you can handle it. It's one thing to think about it, it's another to be given the mental images." 

Joey laughed loudly, thumping Lance again, and Lance fought to keep his feet. "Dude, come on. I'm a twenty-first century man. I can handle my gay best friend getting his rocks off with my other gay best friend. I think I've been pretty good about it, Lance." 

"Well, nothing really happened anyway," Lance confessed. "We made out on the couch, and I went home before, like, anything happened." 

Joey crooked an eyebrow. "You mean, before you fucked?" 

"Uh, yeah." 

"You don't want to sleep with him?" Joey asked, in a way that made Lance feel stupid, like Joey couldn't believe ever turning down sex from anyone, and Lance didn't blame him. Lance couldn't believe he'd turned down Chris. Lance hadn't had sex in three months. "Even I'd sleep with Chris, Lance." 

"I wanted to," Lance said, ignoring that last part. "But. All right. Here's the truth, Joey, and you, as my best friend, get it. I don't do relationships. I don't do them for a lot of reasons, like the fact I'm too busy for most people to understand and I tend to have sex right away without ever waiting and I'm just not good at being a boyfriend. I need to give Chris and I a fighting chance, especially because he wants it so badly." 

Joey's head snapped in Lance's direction. "Oh. So. You know about that?" And Lance nodded slowly, his stomach in knots again. "Thank fucking God. I swear, whenever he drinks, it's all I hear about. Lance this, Lance that. I love Lance. Blah, blah, blah." 

"I can't believe he waited so long to tell me," Lance bluffed, staring at his fingers. 

"When he started dating Dani, I thought he was over it, but no, it just got worse. At least, before then, he would talk about it sober, but after it? Damn. Only drunk, and it was, like. I was seriously worried about his fucked up ass for a long time. He loved her hard, man, but he loves you even harder. I want this to work with you guys." 

Lance nodded numbly and whispered a frail, "me too." 

~~~ 

It wasn't as if Lance wasn't used to be lusted after from afar. He was, and though it used to creep the shit out of him, he was pretty much used to it by now, but obviously throwing Chris into the mix didn't fall into the relaxed category. Chris called three times the next day, and Lance let the machine pick up the messages all three times then couldn't bring himself to listen to them. 

But by the fourth call, Lance was missing him terribly and invited him over for Chinese. Chris didn't seem to realise anything was amiss, and all fears Lance harboured about their burgeoning relationship disappeared within five minutes. When they were together, Lance didn't have to doubt any of it. 

Lance decided they were just going to have to spend more time together. 

~~~ 

After a week of dating, Lance was beginning to regret he hadn't taken Chris up on the offer of staying over earlier because Chris hadn't mentioned anything of the sort since. They kissed a bit in different places, and sometimes, Chris's warm hands would snake under Lance's Gap sweaters, touching him, but that was as far as it got, always. 

Instead, Lance took what he could get, like a row of fingers stroking the small of his back or Chris's lips planting tiny kisses along the length of Lance's neck. When Chris smiled, Lance felt warm inside and didn't mind so much when Chris flopped over him while watching television. Chris wasn't small enough to do it comfortably, but Lance liked the solid pressure of Chris's weight on him, didn't mind when his legs went numb. 

"You wanna to go in the hot tub or something?" Chris mumbled, sprawled like a dog on the couch, mostly on Lance, and Lance was pretty sure he was paralysed from the waist down, but Chris's hair was wonderful to touch. 

"Sure," Lance said and followed Chris outside. "I don't have a suit." 

Chris lifted an eyebrow, already free of his shirt and working on his pants, sliding them and, obviously, his briefs down his legs. Lance never let his eyes stray from Chris's face, trying to figure out what he was thinking. "If you're so concerned, I am assuming you're wearing boxers under those jeans, Bass." 

"Well, it's nothing you haven't seen before," Lance muttered, undressing to the point of utter nakedness and sliding into the hot tub, sitting on the opposite side from Chris. With a deep breath, Lance relaxed into the water. "That's nice." 

"Mm," Chris agreed. 

"Kind of erotic," Lance added, opening one eye to peer at Chris, seeing the smirk and smiling at it. 

"Kind of, yes," Chris said, his arms stretched out over the patio deck, a stark line of white skin against the otherwise dark and lingering night. Chris's deck had a nice ambience to it, with hanging vines and dark bushes that kept it hidden and sheltered. There were small white lights strung up everywhere, creating a soft glow that left Chris looking breathtaking. "You're staring, Bass." 

Lance looked away, abashed, but Chris touched Lance's leg with his foot and said, 

"Hey, you're allowed. I don't mind. It's making me feel sexy." 

"You are sexy," Lance blurted out then blushed. 

Chris looked surprised, like he honestly hadn't known, and Lance wanted to smack his head, wondering how Chris couldn't possibly tell that Lance was really into him. They'd spent the last eight days together, and they'd kissed, and touched, and been boyfriends. "Oh." 

"I mean it." 

Chris nodded. "Sure." 

"I do," Lance said, wondering why he wasn't sounding earnest at all. "You're very sexy, Chris. I think so. I think about it a lot, actually," Lance added, aware that Chris's toes were still against his knee, holding there, waiting. "Very sexy." 

Chris was still frowning, and Lance thought maybe that was because Chris wasn't used to being the sexy one in anybody's world. Gingerly, Lance slide around the sides of the tub until he was beside Chris, and Chris turned his head, pensive. 

"Hi," Lance said, and Chris grinned, ducking his head. Lance moved in a tiny bit closer, so near that he was breathing on Chris, and Chris looked up, eyes twinkling in the dim light. The skin around his eyes was crinkled, but Lance noticed, as of late, they didn't fade completely when the smiling stopped. "Um." 

"Yeah?" Chris asked, sparing Lance the laziest grin ever, and Lance smiled, catching the corner of that smirking mouth, licking at it. Laying his palm across Chris's forehead, Lance lifted himself slightly in the water, opening his lips. Chris's tongue was just like he was: quick and lethal. 

Lance liked it a lot. 

~~~ 

They didn't sleep together that night, didn't even talk about it and stopped at writhe-y naked kissing, and Lance left feeling horny and on-edge, like a tightly tuned guitar. He phoned up JC, who answered with a perky -- "hey, you!" -- and suggested coffee at a café down the road from JC's place. 

"So?" JC asked, poking Lance's leg with his toe, wearing neon pink flip-flops that had daisies on them. Lance pretended he hadn't noticed the footwear. Lance was just grateful the café was pretty much empty. "How did it go, man?" 

"Good," Lance said, sipping his coffee, black, without milk or sugar, while JC poked at his white mocha, licking at the extra puff whipped cream he asked for and the drizzles of caramel. It was three in the morning. "Got a bit naked, but nothing. Uh. no sex, per se." 

JC looked puzzled. "Still none? Wow. Is that a record for you?" 

"I think so," Lance mumbled, scratching a hand through his hair. "I turned him down, you know, like a week ago. We're going slow, and." It sounded dumb even to Lance, who thought it was a brilliant way of making sure he wanted Chris at the time. "God. His mouth, Jayce." 

"It's good," JC agreed, grinning when Lance arched a sharp eyebrow. "What? Don't be so surprised, Mr. I'm-dating-Chris. I've kissed all four of you, Lance. I know who does what. And Chris's mouth is." 

"Amazing," Lance corrected and touched his lips. "Amazing, Jayce." 

~~~ 

"Fuck," Joey said, looking disgusted, and Lance looked up innocently, chewing his lower lip. Chris had just whirred through the room, squawking about playstation and beating Justin's infant ass but had paused in his victory parade long enough to kiss Lance sweetly on the lips. "You're so fucking cute, Bass." 

"Huh?" Lance tried to play stupid, but even he had to admit it was cute, the way Chris stopped dead in his tracks, took a step back and kissed his mouth, then raced along his merry way, calling Justin out. "Well, um. I guess. Shut up." 

"You sleeping with him, yet?" Joey asked, sizing Lance up, and Lance shook his head, staring at his clasped hand, bending and unbending his index fingers. "Jesus, Lance. Did you re-find religion or something? What's the problem?" 

"I told you," Lance mumbled, "taking it slow." 

"Because romance isn't dead, Joe," Chris said from the doorway, and Lance glanced up at him, which was enough because Chris climbed over the armrest to wrap himself around Lance from behind. Lance tried not to grin too widely. "So lay off, man. We'll do it when it's right." 

Lance wondered when exactly _right_ was going to happen. 

~~~ 

Lance got used to jerking off before he went to Chris's house just because he was nearly mad with desire. Chris took him places and let Lance drag him around in return. They held hands while they watched television, and during meetings while Johnny was explaining things, and Lance could only gaze lustfully at Chris's wrist and think about kissing it. Sometimes, Lance forgot where he was. 

"Uh, Lance?" Justin said in the middle of Johnny's speech about continuing their forward motion. Lance blinked and realised Chris's wrist was against his mouth. Chris's head was ducked, and Lance could see him grinning. Lance put his arm down and said, 

"Carry on." 

But Chris was still smiling, and Lance couldn't stop either. 

~~~ 

"Mom. mom," Lance said, trying to slow her down, "mom!" 

Lance heard the movement on the other end of the phone slow then disappear completely, and cheerfully, "yes, honey?" 

Lance scratched the knee of his jean, getting fluff under his nails. "I have a boyfriend, mom. I'm dating someone." 

She shrilled loudly and shouted for Lance's dad, and Lance stood up to get himself a glass of water while his mom talked excitedly then dropped the receiver. Lance winced and opened the fridge, getting the Brita. "Lance, honey. More details." 

"I'm seeing Chris," Lance said, phone held between his ear and his shoulder while he poured, fingers wrapped steadily around the cup. His mom told his dad, and Lance waited patiently for the reaction, sliding the water back into the fridge. "Mom?" 

"Hold on, honey," she said, and Lance sipped his drink, leaning on the counter. "Oh, honey! We think that's wonderful. Your dad and I want him and Bev over for dinner, the next time we're all together. And your dad says he hopes you're using protection." 

Lance choked his water and dropped the glass on the floor, watching it hit but not break and roll away. At the other end of the phone, Lance's parents were laughing loudly, and he hoped they were amused because he wasn't. 

Lance only wished he was using protection. The fact was he just wasn't using at all, and that, Lance thought miserably while his parents chatted at each other, still laughing, was tragic. He just didn't understand why Chris didn't think it was right. 

~~~ 

"Your mom called my mom," Chris said one morning when Lance found him in Lance's kitchen, eating oatmeal so drowned in brown sugar it was nearly black. "Dude. I didn't know we were telling our moms. Mine called me and chewed me out." 

"She doesn't like me?" Lance asked, bleak. 

"She loves you, man, but she didn't appreciate me not telling her. It was, like, back when I was dating Francis, and I didn't tell her. She starts freaking out that maybe I don't love myself enough, and maybe I'm not comfortable in my own skin, and fuck." Chris shovelled a mouthful of oatmeal-y slop into his mouth and chewed it around thoughtfully. 

"You dated a guy named Francis?" 

"Shut up," Chris said before Lance even finished, and Laugh laughed behind his hand, snorting loudly enough that it was obvious he found the fact hilarious. Chris grabbed Lance by the waist, tugging him to Chris's lap, and Lance kept on laughing, tears streaking down his face. "Uh, hey. hello? I'm also dating a guy named Lance." 

"Lance is no where as bad as Francis!" Lance cried, hugging Chris's head to his chest, and Chris looked up, merry and smiling, his arms draped casually around Lance's hips. Lance smiled and kissed Chris on the tip of his nose. "Francis, Chris?" 

"I can't believe you're making fun of the boyfriend I had when I was twenty, man. That's so lame," Chris said, scrunching up his face, and Lance kissed him again, right on his pursed fish-lips. "Hey, Bass?" 

"Yeah, Kirkpatrick?" 

A strange look flittered over Chris's face before it vanished completely, and Chris said, "nothing, Bass." 

Lance smiled, though he barely felt it. 

~~~ 

"Bass, your big, bad boyfriend is waiting outside," Joey said, with a sobbing Brianna hooked on his hip while he searched for the baby blanket he left at Lance's house since it turned out Brianna wouldn't sleep without it. "He says you're a pansy-assed girl for taking so long." 

"He's an impatient little gnome," Lance replied, hunting for his wallet, and his house keys, and his leather jacket. Joey laughed loudly and smacked Lance's ass, which killed Lance's sense of balance and he went sprawling. "Good God, Joey. Go home." 

"I'm not leaving here without the blankie, dude. She screamed all night. You're lucky I didn't phone you up at five when I finally realised the problem." Joey marched off down Lance's hall, and Lance finally found his wallet and keys, though the jacket was still missing. "I got it! Thank God! All right, kid, we're going home for a nap." 

Joey walked by with a very content baby and dropped Lance's leather jacket on his head. Lance sighed and shrugged it on over his shoulders, sliding his wallet into the ass-pocket of his jeans and locking the door before skipping down the steps. Joey honked long and hard as he backed out, and Lance waved semi-enthusiastically. 

"Finally, dude," Chris said, revving the bike, and Lance suspected it was some way of showing off his raging masculinity. Lance was only mildly impressed by it all and climbed on behind him. "Ready, Bass? Or do you need to spend another hour primping?" 

"Just drive, Chris," Lance said, squeezing his arms lowly around Chris's waist, and Chris looked back, his grinning teeth just barely visible above the rim of his helmet. Lance poked his stomach lovingly, and Chris caught his hand under his palm. Lance smiled. "Hi." 

~~~ 

"I've never had a boyfriend before, you know," Lance said, later, when they were lying on their backs in the thick grass, watching the clouds blur by in a thumb-print of motion. Their lunch, take-out from a local deli, sat mostly eaten beside them. "You're my first." 

"You're my second," Chris replied quietly, "just in case you wanted to know." 

Lance propped himself up on his elbow and touched the scruff of Chris's facial hair while Chris squinted at the sky, his teeth bared. "Can I ask you something?" And Chris nodded, which felt deliciously odd against Lance's fingers. "Are you. gay?" 

Chris grinned. "Sometimes. Now, sure. A year or so back, when I was with Dani? No." Lance looked at him suspiciously, his lips pinched together, and Chris shoved at his shoulder lightly. "I hate titles, Bass. Don't make me pick one." 

Lance nodded and looked away for a second, guilty suddenly, a tightness in his chest, and he rolled onto his stomach and picked at the grass. Chris shifted beside him, and Lance stared at his hands. "Can I ask you something else?" 

Chris's face softened. "Anything, Lance." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lance said quickly then looked at Chris, whose face was completely blank, and Lance dipped his head again, frowning. "About um. liking me, you know, before we started this. boyfriend thing." 

Chris didn't say anything, and Lance looked up. 

"Who said I liked you?" Chris said, glaring at the sky, eyes wide open. Lance worried about the sun and damaging effects, but when he reached to touch Chris, Chris caught his wrist and stopped him. "Who said I liked you, Bass?" 

"You're mad," Lance said stupidly. 

Chris shrugged and didn't say anything, just ducked his head and looked away, and he shrugged off Lance's hand when Lance put it on his shoulder, batting at him. Lance touched his fingers to Chris's face instead, and even when Chris shook his head abruptly, Lance didn't let go. 

"Hey," Lance said, "hey, Chris." 

"Fuck off, Bass," Chris muttered, "I understand, okay? I get it." 

"Get what?" Lance asked as Chris rolled away, pushing himself into a kneeling position before standing up and starting to walk away, and Lance moved after him, catching his arm. Chris shoved him, hard. "What the fuck, Chris? What? What do you get?" 

But Chris's walk changed into a run, and Lance just stood there, watching him go. 

~~~ 

"Oh, Lance," JC said when he arrived at Lance's place, climbing over the couch to hug Lance tightly, and Lance nodded stupidly, feeling numb. He'd called Chris thirty-seven times, and left nine messages. The other twenty-six calls were just to hear his voice on the answering machine. Chris hadn't called back yet. "Are you hungry? Can I run you a bath? Want to go shopping?" 

Lance didn't answer, just stared at that square of white wall and wished the phone would ring. JC pulled back and regarded him quietly, squeezing his upper arm supportively before bustling off. Lance sat on the couch and felt stupid. 

When JC came back, he tugged insistently until Lance stood up and followed him to the bathroom, let JC fold his clothes neatly while he settled into the tub, sighing. He was such a fuck up. This was why Lance didn't date. He wasn't any good at it. 

JC perched on the edge of the bath. "What happened?" Lance tucked his check against his shoulder and pushed at a blob of bubbles on his knee then shrugged like he had no fucking idea. "Come on, Lance. It's probably just a misunderstanding." 

"I told him about. knowing that he liked me, I mean, before all this happened," Lance muttered, a tightness in his chest developing that was almost painful. JC blinked long, dark lashes. "Justin told me, Jayce, then Joey confirmed it." 

"We all knew," JC confessed. 

"I didn't know." 

JC nodded and smiled sadly, leaning forward, long legs crossed. "Do you want me to talk to him?" 

Lance stuck his finger into the water, watching it extend under the water, then shrugged, lying back and closing his eyes. "I don't know. I don't." Lance opened his eyes, and JC was right there, looking concerned. "I don't know how to do this, Jayce." 

JC nodded. "I know. It's something you need to learn, though." 

"I miss him already," Lance confessed, closing his eyes again and tilting his head against his shoulder, and he sighed deeply when JC stroked a hand through his hair, tenderly patting him. "I'm such a lousy boyfriend, Jayce. I don't know how to do it." 

"You're learning," JC said, "and you're not lousy, just new at it. I'll talk to him, okay? Help him understand what happened, and then, you'll talk about it together and get over this, okay?" JC leaned down to kiss Lance on the head. "Tomorrow, Lance, it'll all be fine tomorrow." 

Lance only nodded. Somehow, he didn't think it would be that simple. 

~~~ 

Chris didn't call the next day, and when they all got together in the evening, Chris wouldn't speak to him, but Chris wasn't speaking to Justin either. His words to Joey were stunted and angry, and only JC seemed spared. It was obvious that Chris didn't want to be there. Lance wondered why he even came at all. 

"Chris," Lance said, while Chris was in Joey's kitchen getting beers, and Chris brushed by him, nearly knocking Lance over. "I'm sorry, Chris," Lance tried, and Chris snapped back with, 

"Shut the fuck up, Bass," and walked out of the kitchen then straight out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Joey, Justin and JC all got up to see what was going on, and Lance looked at each and every one of them before going to put on his shoes. 

"Lance," Justin said then stopped, like he couldn't think of anything to say, and Lance wished that Justin hadn't had anything to say weeks ago, that maybe the relationship could have progressed naturally. Lance was sure, given a few more days of Chris insisting they were boyfriends to random strangers, things would have worked out. 

"I'm going home," Lance said and walked out. 

~~~ 

JC showed up with a tray of cinnamon buns and some hair dye, all smile and cheerful demeanour. Lance wondered why he couldn't have fallen for JC, and there was no good answer for that, just that things had never seemed right and they'd never tried. Lance had tried with Chris, and that, Lance thought, was the fundamental difference. 

"He thinks you didn't want to sleep with him because you weren't into him, that you were just doing him a favour that didn't extend to sex, that you pitied him," JC said, later, when he pulled Lance up the stairs and frosted his tips to blond. Lance looked at his reflection, bleak. "That's all I can do, Lance, find out why. You have to fix it." 

"He won't talk to me," Lance said, finding JC's eyes in the mirror. 

"He's like that, though." JC squeezed Lance's shoulders, face etched with sympathy and understanding. JC was so sweet. "Make him believe it, Lance. Keep telling him you wanted this to happen with him until he accepts it. Please, man." 

"I'll try," Lance said, "I'll do my best." 

"I know," JC said and smiled a sad smile. 

~~~ 

Lance let himself into Chris's house, long before Chris would ever wake up, and left a bouquet of red roses on the tables with a simple -- "I'm sorry" -- scrawled on a floral note-card. Later that same day, when he knew Chris was taking Busta and Korea to the vet, he let himself in again and stood in the hallway nervously before glancing into the kitchen. The roses were still on the table, but the note was gone. In its place, was another piece of paper that said, 

"Fuck off." 

Lance turned around and walked straight out the door. 

~~~ 

Lance didn't want to be a stalker, but Chris was making things exceptionally difficult. Lance knew Chris couldn't hold a grudge against him or the other guys for more than a week, but he also knew Chris was unpredictable. If there was ever a time when Chris wasn't going to do what Lance wanted him to do, it was going to be now. 

So Lance called Chris's mom. 

"Hi, Beverly?" Lance said when she picked up, his voice shaky and nervous. 

Lance could hear her surprise. "Lance?" 

"Yeah." Lance twirled the cord around his finger and sat down on the stool at his kitchen counter, moving the salt shaker around. "Um. Have you talked to Chris recently?" Beverly made a quiet sound, like she had but didn't want to say so. That was Lance's answer. "I feel like an idiot here, but. He won't talk to me." 

"I know," Beverly said softly. "I'm sorry, Lance." 

"I'm a terrible boyfriend," Lance said feebly, shaking a pile of salt granules onto the counter then dipping his fingers into the small mountain, dragging white lines over the dark ceramic. "I don't. I don't even know why I called you. You must think I'm so stupid." 

"Oh, hey, sweetie, I think nothing of the sort. If anything, Lance, I respect you for it. I wish I could help, but Chris." Beverly paused, and Lance leaned his forehead against his fist, elbow propped up on the counter. "If Chris isn't careful, he's going to be alone his entire life." 

Lance didn't know what to say to that. 

"Lance, sweetie, you need to understand. When he was little, he saw me go through a lot of men, and I married one of them, the father of the girls, but then we got divorced. Chris's biological dad hasn't been around since he was a baby. I've seen Chris settle down two times, once with Dani, and once with his ex-boyfriend." 

"Francis," Lance whispered, a hand tucked against his belly. He felt sick. 

"Yes, Francis. I'm surprised he told you," Beverly admitted, and Lance hummed, shrugging to himself. "It's rare that Chris gets into a relationship. He goes into it believing in forever, and it doesn't work out. It took him nearly five years to date seriously after Francis. It's taken less than two years to date after Dani. Do you see what I'm saying?" 

"He really put himself out there for me," Lance said, like it was obvious all along, "and I. I made him think I didn't want him for him, even though I do. I just didn't think of it. I couldn't let myself think of it," Lance corrected, breathing hard. "My mom warned me about falling for someone in the group, said it'd be the hardest thing I'd ever go through." 

"Diane's a smart woman," Beverly replied, and Lance could almost picture her smiling, that same small grin Chris wore when he was trying to do it secretly . "He loves you, Lance, and he's embarrassed by it, thinking you don't love him back. I don't want you to let him go, sweetie." 

"I won't," Lance promised, meaning it. 

Lance would fix this if it killed him, but he didn't know how. 

It seemed hopeless. 

~~~ 

"Hey," Joey said, standing on Lance's stoop, and Lance stepped back, letting him inside. Lance was dressed in a ragged boxers and a stained wife-beater, with four days worth of facial hair on his chin and a complete lack of personal hygiene. "Dude, you look like shit." 

"I feel like shit," Lance admitted, collapsing back on the couch. Joey sighed deeply and plopped down beside him, and Lance looked at him, thinking that if Joey didn't leave soon, Lance was probably going to fall apart. "I was thinking. What if I come out?" 

Joey frowned. "Like, publically?" 

"Yeah," Lance said, turning to stare at the floor instead. Joey just looked too sad, and Lance just felt too sad. It was just too much. The carpet was a mess, too, but it was less traumatic to see a lone cheerio on the floor than it was to see the pity in Joey's eyes. "Then I could tell everyone about him, and maybe then he'd believe me. I wouldn't name him, but Chris would know it was him." 

"You'd come out for him?" Joey asked, and Lance nodded, pulling at the pale hairs on his legs. "Dude, that's." Lance looked up, and Joey looked shocked. "I mean. Fuck. You know we'd support you, but dude. That's monumental. That's. _Jesus_ , Lance. That's _love_." 

Lance closed his eyes. "I know, Joey." 

"God, Lance," Joey said helplessly, grabbing Lance by the shoulder and tugging him into a hard and brutal hug, and Lance bit his lip, burying his hands in Joey's sweatshirt. "We totally fucked you over, man. I'm so sorry. Nobody should have said anything." 

"I just miss him so fucking much," Lance whispered, thumping his fists lightly against Joey's back, helpless, and Joey tightened his hold, always so great to hang onto. "I can't go back to how I was. I can't remember how to be alone and not lonely. I feel so stupid." 

"God, Lance," Joey said again, and that was enough. 

Lance crumbled and started to cry. 

~~~ 

Just when Lance was sure that he wasn't going to be able to drag his ass out of bed ever again, the doorbell rang once, twice, fifteen times, and Lance got up, stumbling to get it. Peering through the peephole, he saw Chris on the porch and opened the door. 

"Hey," Lance said roughly, rubbing a careless hand across his eyes to clear them. 

"Hey, can I come in?" Chris asked, staring at his shoes, and Lance nodded, not letting his eyes stray for a second from Chris as he stepped back and let him into the house. Lance was desperate for just the sight of him. "You look terrible, man." 

Lance touched his face, self-conscious. "Oh. I'm sorry." 

"My fault, probably," Chris muttered, "can we talk?" 

Lance nodded and went into the living room, sitting down on that all-too-familiar couch. Chris walked to the fireplace, staring at the collection of Dr. Suess prints on the mantle before collapsing next to Lance, giving a little smile. Lance smiled back. 

"The guys are all telling me I'm an idiot," Chris said, pulling at the hole in the knee of his jeans, and Lance watched his fingers, wanted to kiss each of them forever. "Then my mom calls me up to tell me I'm an idiot. Then Joey tells me you're thinking about outing yourself, and I think you're an idiot." 

"I probably won't," Lance mumbled, scratching his neck, "because it'll wreck the group, and I don't want that, but if I could, I would, yeah." Lance looked up at Chris's face, saw how old and tired he seemed these days. "I want to tell the world about my boyfriend." 

Chris sighed deeply. "Lance." 

"You are," Lance said, looking away. The windows in his house were filthy, and he thought, this evening, he would take out the garden hose and scrub them down. "I don't even care if you think you are or not. I know you're my boyfriend, Chris. I know it." 

"I don't know what to say to that," Chris said bleakly, and Lance looked away from the dirty glass to Chris's stoic face. Lance lifted his hand, fingers curled, and Chris took it, didn't hesitate at all. "I don't know how to believe you." 

"I know," Lance said, pushing his hand further and touching Chris's face with Chris's fingers still curled around him. Chris bowed into it, eyes half-closed. "But I mean it, Chris. It would have happened anyway. I believe that." 

Chris frowned, and his lips were half-open, which Lance knew meant he wanted to say something but was holding himself back. Whatever it was, Lance knew Chris was stubborn and rarely believed the best about anybody anymore, not after Lou and the guilt Chris still harboured over bringing four stupid kids with him into a deal with the devil. Lance doubted the words Chris wanted to say were going to be good ones, so Lance asked, 

"Can we try again, Chris?" 

Chris looked visibly upset and shook his head. "I don't know." 

"Can we please try again, Chris, please?" Lance repeated, aware he was begging but also aware he didn't care at all. "Chris, please. I promise. I did this all for me, not you. I like you, a lot, more than I've liked anyone in my life. Please, just give me a second chance." 

And this time Chris said, "okay." 

~~~ 

Lance surprised Chris with breakfast a couple days later then got him an over-sized sweater and a package of big, woolly socks because Chris was always complaining he was too cold when they travelled. Lance bought him an assortment of DVDs and sat through all the screenings even though most of the movies were ones Lance had never heard of and probably wouldn't have wanted to see. Lance made dinner for five days straight, and cooked fancy dog treats for Busta and Korea, and let Chris make gentle fun of Dirk, especially when Dirk got himself drenched in strawberry jam and proceeded to hide in Lance's clean, white clothes. 

"You guys are so sweet," JC whispered, when Chris was talking to Justin about the echo effects in one of their songs and how he really liked them because Justin had done it all with Chris's voice. Lance looked up, puzzled. "You and Chris. You're really adorable together." 

"No, we're not," Lance mumbled, red in the face. JC beamed and shook his head, hugging Lance around the waist and dancing a bit in place. Lance grinned to himself, shrugging. "Well, maybe. Sometimes. I guess." 

"All the time," JC corrected, "it's so cute." 

Lance smirked and ducked his head, blushing. When he looked up, Chris was watching him, amused, and Lance waved, pointing at JC and making a crazy face. Chris laughed loudly and crossed his eyes. Lance actually giggled. 

"So sweet," JC repeated and smiled, too. 

~~~ 

"Bass," Chris said one night, "you can stop trying to buy my affection. It's yours." 

Lance looked up innocently from the stack of five new DVDs he was putting on the table while Chris stood at the stove, making a big pot of Kraft Dinner. Lance thought about lying, claiming he had no idea whatsoever what Chris was talking about, but instead, he settled on, "I just want you to know I'm sorry." 

"Dude, I forgave you ages ago. Not that I don't love getting a bunch of stuff for free, but I'm cool. Okay?" Lance dipped his head, chastised, and nodded. Chris sighed loudly, and Lance looked up just in time to get a spoonful of cheesy macaroni in the face. 

"You just." Lance blinked as a noodle slipped down his nose. "Oh my God, Chris." 

Chris pinched his lips together, his eyes focussed solely on Lance's, and his cheeks puffed out, huge and round. Lance stood up and walked calmly to Chris. Chris blinked and stepped back, and Lance smiled sweetly. 

"Hey," Lance said and shoved his hand into the pot of Kraft Dinner, grabbing a handful and spreading it all over Chris's face. Chris wailed with laughter as Lance climbed onto him, shoving the cheesy mush down the back of Chris's shirt. 

"You fucker, Bass!" Chris crowed, and he proceeded to get a huge blob of the mess under Lance's shirt, grinding it into Lance's belly. Lance squealed, wriggling to get away, and knocked them both off their feet, bringing the pasta down on their heads in a rain of neon orange. 

"This feels so disgusting," Lance confessed breathlessly, the slimy, cooling mass sliding down the back of his neck, and Chris started laughing again, shrieks of delighted laughter in Lance's ear, and Lance laughed, too. "Oh, God. I can't believe you did that." 

"I can't believe you got me back," Chris mumbled, grinning, and he folded his arms over the small of Lance's back, securing Lance against him. Lance sighed happily, folded over Chris's body and pressing him flat against the ground. Chris didn't seem to mind. "Want me to order pizza instead?" 

"Yeah," Lance said, "but maybe, we can lie here for a bit longer before you do it?" 

Chris tucked his face against Lance's neck. "Yeah." 

~~~ 

On their one month anniversary, which they both agreed started after the big fight, despite the fact they were together for two weeks and five days before that, Chris put together a romantic candlelight dinner on Chris's patio, with sparkling white lights draped over the veranda and two tall glasses of champagne. 

"You romantic bastard," Lance said wistfully, hooking his chin over Chris's shoulder and coiling his arms around Chris's waist. Chris tipped his head back, and Lance nibbled a kiss over his jaw. Chris smiled as Lance tucked a hand against his hip, pulling Chris against him. Chris felt solid and real in Lance's embrace. 

They ate the salmon quietly, talking about nothing at all, laughing at the stupidest stuff, but somehow, to Lance, it was everything. Chris talked a bit about his past relationships, what went wrong and what he lost, and Lance listened intently to avoid those same mistakes. When Chris smiled, Lance didn't want to see that he was afraid anymore. He wanted Chris to trust in them as much as Lance believed they'd work. 

"Lance?" Chris asked, and Lance nodded, his fork between his lips, the delicious salmon melting on his tongue. "Can I just ask one thing then I promise I'll shut up forever? I mean, I know what I've been told. But." 

"I asked you out because you made me smile and laugh and feel good about myself for the first time in. _forever_ ," Lance said, swallowing his mouthful before leaning over the table to take Chris's hand. His fingers were cold. "Because our friends said that me looking at you like that was okay. I never let myself before then. I couldn't." 

And that seemed to be the answer, and the question, because Chris nodded and went back to eating his meal, but Lance didn't let go of his hand. Instead, he twisted their fingers together, and they stayed like that, connected, until long after the food was gone. 

~~~ 

Later, they sat around on Chris's couch, talking at random intervals but keeping it mostly quiet. Busta and Korea were asleep on the matching ottomans, snoring, and Chris was staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open. Lance watched him. 

Chris was odd-looking, almost as odd-looking as Lance, whose strange light eyes and immaculately smooth skin turned a lot of people off, but in a way that was harder to get used to than Lance's own appearance. Chris was a lot sexier now that he was five years ago, when his hair was bizarre and he shaved everyday. Chris seemed to be more conscious of himself and what other people thought these days, and maybe that explained the change. 

Even when the rest of them were starving and skinny in Europe, Chris was always soft around the middle, unsculpted and completely natural. After Dani, Chris gained a lot of weight and was ashamed of it, hid himself however he could and only relaxed when Joey decided to be happy and comfortable, saying bigger was better. Now, seeing Chris sprawled, his shirt half-lifted over his soft belly, Lance was surprised to find he was relieved. Self-consciousness didn't suit Chris at all. 

Eventually, Chris lifted his head. "Does it feel right?" 

Lance didn't even have to ask what because he knew, of course he knew. He nodded and let Chris pull him to a stand, keeping their hands linked, and it was nice, Lance realised, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Chris's shoulder, holding his mouth there and breathing emotion onto his skin. 

The whole situation was amazingly beautiful when they let it be. 

~~~ 

"I don't think I've ever been up here," Lance said, looking at Chris's bed, which was modern and Ikea-made and huge, before lifting his eyes to peer at Chris. Lance could barely believe he was about to sleep with his _boyfriend_. 

"I've only lived here for a few months," Chris replied, closing the door behind him and standing there, arms behind his back. Lance stepped forward slowly as Chris watched him and if he was even breathing, Lance couldn't tell. All Lance could hear was the sound of blood rushing through his own ears while his heart thumped, nervous, against his chest. 

When Chris was within reach, Lance slid a cautious hand against his neck then over his right shoulder, liking how Chris's head tilted to the left, eyes fluttering closed. Lance moved his hand over Chris's chest, palming the nipples to hardness through the shirt, thumb digging down the furrow in the centre of his ribs. 

Lance lifted his other hand and folded it against Chris's hips, trailing it up his side, over his shoulder, to his throat, fingers sweeping up from under his chin to bend upon his lips. Chris's mouth opened slightly, and Lance put the tips of his fingers over it, tracing the roll of lower lip while the other hand continued down Chris's stomach. Chris's hips rolled upwards. 

"You're so sexy," Lance murmured, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Chris's jeans and pulling him forward. Chris nodded, eyes austere and serious, and Lance kissed over his lips, soft, small kisses on smooth, warm skin. Chris moaned and tipped his head back. "Believe me. You're so sexy." 

"Okay," Chris said, breathless, "okay." 

"Look at me," Lance said, his other hand tugging off Chris's shirt, and Chris looked at him, black hair wild and sticking up everywhere. Lance lifted his arm and stood on his toes, brushing the hair back, and Chris moved with him, grabbing his shirt from behind and tugging upwards. Lance rolled his shoulders until his chest was naked. Chris smiled. 

"Fuck," Lance said, working on Chris's belt, clumsily tugging it between his fingers while Chris licked over his neck, tonguing his adam's apple. They nearly lost their balanced then paused a moment to laugh at themselves before Lance finally tugged off the belt. "Success!" 

"You're a dork, Bass." Chris laughed, loud and full in Lance's ear, and Lance rolled his head onto Chris's shoulder, hands moving back to Chris's chest, his stomach, his hips. Chris traced his tongue over the whorls of Lance's ear, hips shimmying delightfully when Lance's hands tugged down the heavy pants. 

When Chris was naked, Lance stepped back, moving blindly to the bed and trusting Chris to follow. He did, cautious steps taking him slowly forward, and Lance kicked off his pants, climbing onto the bed, legs sprawled and spread apart. Chris grabbed his foot and kissed the instep, and Lance squirmed, reaching for him, for Chris, his _boyfriend_. 

"Hey," Chris said and folded over Lance's body, kissing across Lance's shoulder, his neck, his jaw. Lance arched his back, moaning lowly in his throat, and Chris brushed two shaking hands through Lance's hair, kissing him sweetly, tenderly. 

"I love you," Lance whispered, "I love you so much." 

And Chris kissed him again, full on the lips, and said, "me too, Lance, me too." 

~~~ 

Lance woke first, deliciously worn and sore after a long but incredible night. Chris was snuffling into Lance's ear, wrapped around him, a thigh shoved between Lance's stiff legs. Lance smiled and traced the arc of Chris's spine with his fingers, liking how Chris murmured in his sleep, shifting smoothly over Lance's body. 

"Go to sleep, Bass," Chris murmured, "it's fucking seven in the morning." 

"Can't," Lance admitted, liking how Chris's arms tightened around his neck and pulled him in a for a badly-aimed, closed-mouthed kiss. Chris got Lance on the eyelid, but it was still the sweetest thing ever. "I'd rather gaze lovingly at you." 

Chris groaned. "Good lord, Bass. You're a sap." 

"Yep," Lance replied, grinning. Chris yawned against him, mouth wide and huge, then closed his eyes, snuggling in deep. Lance stroked his hair while Chris shifted, trying to get comfortable, and when he settled, Lance palmed his hip. 

Chris sighed softly in Lance's ear. 

~~~ 

"Bass, you dog," Joey said affectionately, mussing up Lance's hair, and Lance ducked away, grinning and shaking his head. Chris was already getting hassled by Justin. Joey grabbed Lance in a headlock, pulling him around while Lance laughed, squirming to be free. "You thought we wouldn't notice a limping Lance?" 

"I twisted my ankle," Lance lied, grinning and lost in Joey's armpit. 

"Uh-huh." Joey scruffed his knuckles against Lance's head, and Lance jumped, eyes tearing at the corners while he shook with laughter. It only grew worse when JC fluttered up behind him, grabbing onto his hips. "Lance says he twisted his ankle." 

"Chris says Lance fell asleep on the couch wrong," JC replied solemnly. 

Joey hollered, "get your stories straight, boys!" 

"You're a bunch of fucking teenage girls!" Chris shouted, and Lance could see him out of the corner of his eye, cornered by Justin and trying to snake around him, but Justin climbed onto his back, shouting nonsense cries of praise in Chris's ear. "I'll kick all your asses." 

"Admit it, Lance, admit it," Joey grilled, laughing while JC tickled. Lance flailed about helplessly, his head numb from Joey's noogies, so he nodded, couldn't stop himself, and Joey mercifully paused his assault. "What was that, dude?" 

"Yes, yes," Lance muttered, blushing and shoving Joey away, straightening his rucked up shirt and running a palm over his mussed hair. Lance tried to look indignant and suspected he failed. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes." 

Joey hollered, grabbing JC by the waist in celebration and bouncing him around while he giggled, clapping. Justin smacked Chris on the ass and shoved him at Lance. Lance looked at Chris apologetically, and Chris smirked, sliding an arm around his waist and squeezing. 

"Hi," Lance said, pecking his lips with the sweetest kiss, and Chris smiled.


End file.
